Take A Breath
by Moodle
Summary: With each agonizing breath he took, he knew it was closer to the end. The distracted, the undead, zombies (if you really wanted to dumb it down) were here. He wasn't sure whether this was going to be an outing this time.


_**OOC: This is an old file I found in my story folder. I don't think it's been touched since my freshman year (so AKA really fucking old). I know I haven't been active really at all so here I leave you with yet another oneshot.**_

_**Take A Breath**_

The lights flickered as Kyle shifted his footing. His emerald eyes grazed over the tainted white tiles of the floor. He chewed on his lip, watching the creature slowly.

The creature stood not far from him, their skin was pale gray in the low lighting. His matted black hair covered his pale skin as blood slid down from the corner of his eye. The dark blood laced around his fingertips as if it was performing a dance of some sort. It flowed down his arm, dripping onto the floor with such agonizing silence.

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip…_

They continued on and on, without any hesitation. He breathed out a quick sigh, relieved to know that it was not heading in his direction. He broke out into a sprint as he made his way towards the end of the hall. Run. Just fucking run.

Kyle finally stopped from what seemed like hours of running. Short pants escaped his lips as he glanced around wildly, expecting another _thing_ to attack him. He really wouldn't call them zombies. It was too cliché. It wasn't logical. Fuck, nothing was logical at the moment. He ran his hand over the black blood stained on his shirt and tightened his grip onto the metal bat. The blood brought the fresh memories of his parents lying down on the ground, their heads bashed in. Ike roaming around mindlessly, until the blow reached him too. Kyle didn't want to think about it, but it seemed to stay inside his mind like a virus. He had killed his family. He was the one who ended it, not God knows what disease that infected them. He leaned against the wall, everything rushing through his head. A wave of nausea swept over him as he finally stopped, slamming his head against the wall in self-resentment.

His mind was now off of the tragic events before, but the one thing that started it all. It was all over the news this morning, blaring through every household. The experiment of the century. Apparently, South Park was the perfect place for the U.S. to test their new strand of bacteria. It was called the 'White Death', or at least that was what Kyle set in mind for it. They were going to trap one U.S. town, put the strand in one being, and see who survives in the end. It was one hell of an experiment. The only comment that was made over the large intercoms set around town was: "It's for the greater good. A small sacrifice for their survival."

It was almost inhuman to see this experiment had ever been thought of, much less acted upon. For those who tried to escape, they were shot down by the United States army stationed on the outskirts of town. The fucking army for God's sake. Kyle breathed in sharply, closing his eyes against the events that happened only hours before. He still couldn't believe this was happening. The mere thought of something like this happening was impossible. There was no way that the President would allow this. Shouldn't they be criticized? Though, in their eyes this was just another small sacrifice for the protection of the country. We were experiments, another factor in the equation.

A loud cracking sounded from down the hallway. Kyle gritted his teeth, as a chill traced down his spine. His green eyes adverted from the wall, gazing upon the form down the hallway. He cursed inwardly, slowly backing away from the figure. He tried to be as silent as possible, terrified of what might have happened if he made any noise. A small bead of swear fell from his brow, watching it cautiously. The thing slowly turned its head towards him, a spark of cracks in its neck echoed throughout the halls as it lets out a trembling moan. Its body moved slowly, but methodically towards him.

"Shit," Kyle cursed, decided there was nothing to do now but to kill it. He advanced toward it cautiously. He took a step forward, adrenaline pumped through his veins as he slammed the wooden bat toward its head, impaling it on contact. Beads of sweat absorbed around his brow, looking down at the motionless figure at his feet. He moved away from it quickly, dashing down the hallway. Tears reached his eyes, looking down the hallway. It was clear. Another scream echoed through the halls, following a sickening crack. He cringed at the sound, fear coursing through him stronger than ever.

It was almost shocking that Cartman didn't cause this dilemma. No...it was downright bullshit. For one time Cartman is innocent, the entire town suffers. They were all going to die. There was no escape. He was...alone of all things. He didn't want to admit to himself that this might be his last hours on Earth, but what could he do in this situation? Sit around and wait for death to come? Fuck no. Stan would kill him if he pussied out like this. No...he needed to stay strong, even if that meant he was fighting alone. But God, he hated being alone. The simple idea of all of his loved ones gone terrified him.

A chill shivered down his spine as he saw a familiar figure dash across the hallway. He glanced over to see Stan. Slight relief washed through him as he stared at the entrance. He was glad he was alive. He moved towards him, trying not to set off anything else.

_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'm such a horrible person. Gomen. It's not getting updated. The end. ;-;**_


End file.
